My quarantine lifeline.
The Real Housewives franchise to me is like insulin to a diabetic, or a pacemaker to Sir Elton John. To sum it up, the Bravo Network is the sole reason I have survived quarantine. I have cried with Tinsley Mortimer and laughed with Lisa Rinna; I’ve partied with Sonja Morgan and broken my sobriety with Luanne de Leseppes; I said goodbye to my husband after he was deported with Teresa, and got married to an unknown man in utter secrecy with Kenya.
Like with all parents and their children, I must admit that I have my favorites. RHONY and RHOBH have never failed to be there for me in times of stress. Quarantine has blessed me with the opportunity to, for the first time in my young life, watch these shows in real-time. I have relished it, and then some. After each new episode, I call my friend to discuss. We mull over the general plot and then dissect every details (such as Denise Richard’s husband’s job, or our deep love for LRinna and Erika Jayne). Post-discussion, I immediately listen to The Bitch Bible by no other than Bravo Queen, Jackie Schimmel, so I can further prod my Real Housewives’ thoughts. This routine has been my equivalent of therapy.
And now, to transition, I must release my current thoughts on the most recent episodes of RHONY and RHOBH. Luanne de Lesseps makes me squeal with glee. She just gives, regardless of the episode. Her presence blesses my screen every week. Dorinda is the rock I need, and Sonja will always be my star. All I would like to say about RHOBH is that the drama between Dorit and Kyle serves as the only excitement I have felt in seven weeks. In any other circumstance, this drama would not appeal to me. HOWEVER, my quarantined mind craves the arguing women’s fight-or-flight level stress when discussing whether or not Dorit’s glam squad did her makeup pre-retreat.
While I don’t know how to express the joy The Real Housewives bring me, I can only try to convey my addiction via my blog. I hope this post can simultaneously serve as my own personal therapy and an ode to the women of RHONY and RHOBH. I fear for the future when school ends, as I know this addiction will take over my life.
QOTD: Has my obsession with Zoom workouts gone too far?
So far in quarantine, I have had trouble finding various ways to pass time without getting bored. My favorite methods so far have involved taking online classes, watching interesting videos, and binging every reality show available. Looking back, I am reminded of a fond memory from my time in quarantine; the time I signed up for a zoom contortion class. As a young woman who is neither a contortionist nor a gymnast, I naively entered this class with high hopes that I would be blessed with beginner’s luck. I was mistaken. The first moments of class involved stretches that were strenuous enough to account for an entire workout. Alone, afraid, and recorded by my webcam, I attempted these stretches with no success. As the class-goers bent and snapped in every direction, my body creaked with each move. I mustered all of my strength to not show my pain through my facial expressions; I’d like to believe I did a good job, though I am doubtful that was the reality. After what felt like ten years, the warm up finally ended. We moved on to exercises that focused on back strength, or, in my experience, my lack thereof. I felt like a fish flopping out of water as I shamefully failed to lift my back off the ground. I prayed that my parents would not enter my room to the horrific sight of me, lying on my bedroom floor, covered in sweat, trying to bend my back to join my feet and shoulders. All the while, my webcam remained on to show the class my botched skills. Hardly halfway into class, I had been through enough; embracing the lazy genius that lies within me, I shut off my webcam and opened up a hulu tab and began playing an episode of Real Housewives of Beverly Hills. I was too ashamed to leave class and brand myself a quitter, so I stayed on the zoom call until the class was over. I am unsure of what I gained from this experience, other than the fact that I can officially say I’ve taken a zoom circus class. Going forward in my life, I feel that in order to enjoy a contortion class, I will have to experience it in person. Until then, I will not be practicing contortionism.